Episode 11a, VS7.5 - Ragnarok
by Voyager Season 7.5
Summary: Four years ago, Voyager encountered the Borg for the first time.... but now the Borg are back again...


Episode 11a  
Ragnarok I  
  
  
RAGNAROK PART I  
by Rocky  
  
Author's Note: 'Ragnarok' is a term from Norse mythology which means 'the  
day of doom' or alternatively, 'a dusk of the gods.' It refers to the end of  
the world as we know it, when the final battle between the forces of good  
and evil takes place. Unlike other cultures, the Norsemen believed that Evil  
holds the advantage, its triumph assured. The only thing that can possibly  
tip the balance is courage and heroism, a willingness to die for what one  
believes in.  
  
Acknowledgments: With many thanks to my fellow 7.5 writers for all their  
hard work in setting up the events leading up to this story. Also, much  
gratitude to my beta reader, m.c. moose.  
  
Prologue  
  
Chakotay pressed the turbolift call and smiled at his companion. It was the  
end of a very long day. After a full duty shift on the bridge, he and the  
captain had spent several more hours working on the quarterly personnel  
reports, and by the time they'd finished, they were both hungry and  
exhausted. A quiet meal in one or the other's quarters had been all he  
wanted. Unfortunately, the discovery that both of them had depleted their  
replicator credits meant adjourning to the Mess Hall instead.  
  
That had actually worked out fine. Privacy hadn't been an issue as the Mess  
Hall had been nearly empty, and they'd had a better than average dinner in  
which leola root was conspicuously absent. He also enjoyed the leisurely  
walk through the ship's corridors with her afterward. The lights were  
dimmed, in deference to 'ship's night', and Chakotay thought the muted  
lighting did much to soften the tense lines in Kathryn's face.  
  
As if feeling his scrutiny, she caught his eye and smiled. "Do you hear  
that?" she asked.  
  
He cocked his head and listened, but didn't anything detect anything beyond  
the faint ever-present hum of the engines. "Hear what?"  
  
"The silence." Janeway closed her eyes for a moment. "Isn't it wonderful?"  
  
"It has been quiet lately," he agreed. "I could almost forget we're still  
traveling through Borg space."  
  
She shot him a look. "Granted it's been more than a month since our last  
encounter, but it wouldn't do to relax just yet."  
  
"True." Chakotay fell silent, thinking of their last contact with a Borg  
cube--the drones aboard the Trefla who had frantically tried to rid  
themselves of any last vestiges of the Collective, with nearly catastrophic  
results. He wondered how they were faring now.  
  
The 'lift arrived and they stepped in. "Deck 3," Janeway said, and leaned  
back against the wall, an admission of tiredness he knew she wouldn't allow  
herself if anyone else had been present.  
  
"I was thinking," he said. "Perhaps it's time to think about rescheduling  
the Olympics again."  
  
Janeway stifled a yawn. "Let's hold off a bit longer on that, Chakotay."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Well, the crew is still recovering from the after-effects of the Doctor's  
holoprogram and survival training," she said. She rolled her eyes and  
muttered, "I'd rather run a marathon than go through *that* again."  
  
Chakotay grinned. "Oh, come on, it wasn't that bad, was it?" He quickly  
sobered at the look on her face. After hesitating for a moment, he said,  
"The idea of colonizing still bothers you, doesn't it, Kathryn?"  
  
The 'lift stopped. He stood aside to let her exit first, hoping she wouldn't  
just continue on to her cabin without answering his question, that she would  
finally be willing to discuss the subject with him in-depth.  
  
He needn't have worried. After the 'lift doors closed, she said quietly,  
"Yes, it does."  
  
He took her arm and drew her over to the wall of the deserted corridor. "I  
told you before, no one would ever think you've given up. You've said time  
and time again that we were going to make it back to the Alpha Quadrant, and  
the crew believes you. Especially now, when it looks as though we're going  
to be able to shorten our trip considerably, if B'Elanna's ideas for  
transwarp work out."  
  
Her shoulders slumped tiredly. "I know. I know, but..."  
  
"But at the same time, home is where you make it. By that token, many of the  
crew feel they're already home," he reminded her gently.  
  
Just as she opened her mouth to reply, the red alert klaxon sounded.  
  
Janeway immediately went for her comm badge, which activated before she  
could touch it. "Captain Janeway, Commander Chakotay, please report to the  
bridge."  
  
Act I  
  
The turbolift doors opened on the Bridge and the captain and first officer  
rushed out. As always, Chakotay was surprised at just how quickly Janeway  
could move when events warranted it.  
  
"Report," snapped Janeway, taking the center seat that Lieutenant Kim had  
hurriedly vacated.  
  
"We picked up a distress call a few minutes ago," Kim answered, on his way  
to the Ops station to replace the ensign on duty.  
  
The captain didn't voice the obvious question of why a simple distress call  
would trigger a red alert. Chakotay reminded himself this wasn't the first  
time Kim had been in charge of the bridge; the lieutenant wasn't given to  
overreacting. "Let's hear it," Janeway said.  
  
The crackle of subspace interference distorted the message almost to the  
point of being unintelligible. The crew listened in silence.  
  
"... hear this, please respond. ... under attack...off-line...life support  
failing...no one in the sector is safe...help us!"  
  
"It's been repeated several times," Kim added.  
  
"Can you clean the transmission up a bit?" Chakotay asked. "Did they  
identify themselves? Or who's attacking them?"  
  
"Negative," answered Lieutenant Rollins from the tactical station. "There's  
so much interference, I haven't been able to make an identification on the  
vessel."  
  
The turbolift opened once more, disgorging Tuvok and Paris, as Rollins  
continued, "Wait, I'm picking up something now on long range scanners." His  
eyes widened. "Captain, it's the Borg!"  
  
Janeway's mouth set in a tight line. "On screen."  
  
The visual of a massive cube and a much smaller sphere appeared. Even as  
they watched, an energy flare lanced out from the cube, struck the sphere,  
and dislodged a chunk of its armored hull plating.  
  
"What the hell?" muttered Paris.  
  
"There are no other ships in the vicinity," Tuvok said as Rollins turned  
tactical over to him, "As such, I would surmise that this is an intra-Borg  
conflict."  
  
"Confirmed," answered Kim. "The distress call came from that sphere."  
  
"Try hailing them," said Janeway. Perhaps feeling his eyes upon her, she  
turned to Chakotay. "I want to know why the Collective is attacking its  
own."  
  
Kim said, "Amplifying our signal with the main deflector...Channel open,  
Captain. Audio only."  
  
Janeway rose. "This is Captain Kathryn Janeway of the--"  
  
A female voice cut in, "Voyager! Please, you've got to help us!"  
  
Janeway's brows rose in puzzlement. "Who are you? Why are you under attack?"  
  
"This is Sarexa, Captain. My companions and I..." Anything further was lost  
in static, as the sphere shuddered once again under the assault.  
  
"That sphere--it's the one that left the Trefla four weeks ago," Chakotay  
said in astonishment.  
  
"Shields up," Janeway said crisply. "Mr. Paris, plot an intercept course,  
maximum warp. We're going in."  
  
***  
  
The battle was still enjoined when Voyager arrived at the coordinates, the  
sphere looking much worse for wear than it had a short time ago. The  
aggressors, meanwhile, were seemingly unscathed.  
  
"Hail the cube," Janeway ordered in a tone that brooked no argument.  
  
"No response," Kim replied after a moment.  
  
"They appear to be ignoring us, instead choosing to focus all their efforts  
on the sphere," Tuvok stated.  
  
"Let's try to attract their attention," Janeway said. "Mr. Tuvok, fire a  
warning shot across their bow."  
  
The phaser burst shot out in front of the cube. "No response," Tuvok  
reported.  
  
Chakotay turned to Ops. "Mr. Kim, anything from the sphere?"  
  
"I'm reading numerous hull breaches. Their engines are off-line; they're  
venting plasma and rapidly losing atmosphere."  
  
"Life signs?"  
  
"I'm reading approximately fifty--but they're very weak."  
  
Janeway briefly considered her options, then said, "Target the cube's  
weapons system. I don't want to destroy them, just disable them long enough  
to get in close enough to beam off the people on the sphere. Mr. Paris, Mr.  
Tuvok, prepare to execute 'Red Right 82' on my mark."  
  
"Aye, Captain," the officers said in unison. The exercise would require  
pinpoint timing and execution--an opportunity both Paris and Tuvok welcomed,  
albeit in different ways, to show the captain what they were capable of.  
They'd practiced it numerous times in simulations--but this was real. More  
than one person on the bridge held their breath.  
  
"Notify the transporter room to beam the survivors directly to Cargo Bay  
One," Janeway said softly to Chakotay, her eyes never leaving the main view  
screen. "Erect a forcefield and have security teams standing by, just in  
case."  
  
"Understood." Based on their previous contact, Sarexa and her group were not  
a threat, but the captain clearly preferred to err on the side of caution.  
Chakotay approved. All too often appearances were deceiving. He rapidly  
issued the orders, the better part of his attention focused on the unfolding  
events.  
  
Janeway counted off the necessary seconds. "Now!"  
  
Voyager banked sharply to starboard, sending twin bursts of phaser fire to a  
specific target on the cube. At the same time, the ship's pass brought them  
close enough to the sphere to begin transport.  
  
"Direct hit," Tuvok said. A moment later, Voyager shuddered.  
  
"I thought the idea was to disable their weapons first," Chakotay said under  
his breath, then remembered how acute Vulcan hearing was. He shot an  
apologetic glance at Tuvok.  
  
Tuvok didn't deign to reply, but fired at the cube once more.  
  
"Mr. Kim--what's the progress on those transports?" Janeway said.  
  
"Nearly completed," Kim answered. He looked up. "Captain--the sphere's warp  
core is going to breach in less than a minute!"  
  
"Mr. Paris!" snapped Janeway.  
  
"I'm on it," Paris said, his fingers flying over his controls. Voyager came  
about once more, and then fled in the direction of safety.  
  
Janeway's hand clenched convulsively on the arm of her chair. It would take  
an additional three seconds till Voyager could be sure of clearing the  
corona of the breaching core; seconds that they did not necessarily have.  
  
"The cube is in pursuit," announced Tuvok.  
  
"Or they've also detected the warp core breach," said Chakotay, leaning  
forward, just as a brilliant explosion lit up nearby space.  
  
Voyager was caught in the leading edge of the shock wave. On the bridge, the  
crew were shaken about like dice in a cup. Janeway clung to her seat, trying  
desperately to remain upright. The lights went down; when they came back up  
they were only at half-strength.  
  
The captain cast a sharp eye around her. Here and there a console sparked,  
but there appeared to be no serious damage. Over at Ops, Kim was juggling  
numerous incoming reports from all decks, which confirmed that the rest of  
the ship had fared about the same as the bridge. And thankfully, there were  
no reports of serious injuries.  
  
Chakotay, nursing a twisted ankle, reclaimed his seat. "Tuvok, is that cube  
still on our tail?"  
  
"Negative. They were caught in the backwash of the explosion."  
  
Janeway breathed a shuddering sigh of relief, then turned to her first  
officer. "Let's go greet our guests and see if they can shed some light on  
what just happened."  
  
***  
  
Janeway stood outside the perimeter of the force field of the cargo bay,  
observing the former drones within. They looked, Janeway decided, much  
better than they did the last time Voyager had encountered the Trefla. Most  
of their visible implants were gone, as were the majority of the scars  
inflicted by disease and their own desperate attempts to remove all traces  
of their cybernetic past. The vaccine developed on board Voyager had  
evidently worked wonders.  
  
On the other hand, the drones were all very thin, still haggard-looking.  
They sat in clusters on the floor of the bay, not making any attempt to  
move, or even converse among themselves. Many shoulders were slumped in  
defeat; most faces wore expressions of resignation or fear.  
  
Janeway and Chakotay's presence had been noticed. A Talaxian female rose and  
made her way to where the Starfleet officers stood. Her manner was  
tentative, as if she wasn't sure what her reception would be. "Captain  
Janeway?"  
  
"Hello, Sarexa," Janeway said. "You remember Commander Chakotay."  
  
"Of course." Sarexa nodded briefly to the man who was looking at her with  
undisguised suspicion, then refocused her attention on the captain. "Once  
again, we owe you our lives."  
  
Janeway studied her for a moment more, then turned to the security officer  
beside her. "Release the force field."  
  
Chakotay took a step forward. "Do you think that's wise, Captain?"  
  
Janeway held up a hand to cut off his objections. Yes, they'd had their  
problems with the Trefla, but Sarexa and her group hadn't been a part of it.  
"Go ahead, Lieutenant." The guard did so, but eyed the former drones warily.  
  
Once the barrier was down, none of the refugees made any moves to rush  
forward. It was almost as though they didn't even notice that it was gone.  
  
Sarexa gave a shaky smile. "You have nothing to fear from any of us,  
Captain."  
  
"Why were you under attack?" asked Chakotay. He folded his arms across his  
chest as he waited for an answer.  
  
A pained expression flitted across the Talaxian's face for a moment. "As you  
recall, my companions and I left the Trefla on a scout sphere. We were too  
tired, too ill, too dispirited to face the prospect of rebuilding or  
attempting to form a new society among the different factions aboard our  
ship. Though he did not like the idea, Sakat gave us permission to go. We  
called our vessel the Tikvah. Our hope was to find a world that would be  
willing to take us in, allow us to live in peace. Instead, we have been set  
upon and victimized at every turn--including by our own people."  
  
Janeway reached out and gently touched Sarexa's arm. "Your people?" she  
asked. "You mean Talaxians?"  
  
"No, I mean others like ourselves--drones freed from the Collective."  
  
For a moment no one spoke, as the implications became clear.  
  
"The consequences of our introducing the Doctor's virus to the Borg all  
those months ago obviously are more widespread than we had anticipated,"  
Chakotay said quietly to the captain.  
  
"Exactly," Sarexa said in the same matter-of-fact tone, giving no hint of  
the anguish that must have been below the surface. "Most of the freed drones  
are harmless, wanting only to return to their homes, resume the lives that  
were disrupted. Others, whose homes are too far away or whose planets were  
devastated by the Borg, are trying to form new societies, build new homes  
together with their comrades." She shivered involuntarily. "But some are no  
better than pirates."  
  
"Like the cube that attacked you," Janeway said.  
  
"They prey on the weak. The cube demanded our central processor, and our  
deflector. We yielded to their threats, though those losses seriously  
crippled us--there is no fight left in any of us. But once their demands  
were met, they set about to destroy us anyway."  
  
Janeway nodded sympathetically. "I understand. For the time being, you and  
your people can remain on Voyager. We'll arrange quarters, and I'm sure the  
Doctor will want to run some follow-up tests on all of you." She tapped her  
comm badge. "Janeway to Seven of Nine. Please report to Cargo Bay One."  
  
"Thank you, Captain," said Sarexa. "We are grateful for your assistance and  
hope we won't present too much of a burden."  
  
Janeway smiled and then signaled Chakotay to follow her. Neither of them  
spoke until they were in the turbolift.  
  
"Pirates," Janeway said. "Victimizing those weaker than themselves."  
  
Chakotay nodded. "Remember Harry's report about the drones that attacked the  
Pojzan refugees? I'm thinking this is somehow related."  
  
"You're probably right. Not necessarily the same group, but similar  
circumstances--I'm afraid we're looking at a new development in the history  
of the Borg," Janeway said. She passed her hand wearily over her face.  
  
"Not unexpected," Chakotay said somberly. "But disheartening." He paused for  
a moment. "No, strike that. 'Ominous' is probably more accurate."  
  
"What do you mean?" Janeway said, looking at him in surprise.  
  
"This new breed of drone, freed from the Collective will and restraints, may  
prove to be even more dangerous than anything we've encountered until now."  
  
And for that, the captain had no answer.  
  
***  
  
Captain's log, Stardate 54579.6. It's been more than 24 hours since we  
rescued the crew of the Tikvah. Since then, we have not encountered any  
further Borg activity in the vicinity. We are maintaining yellow alert, as  
long range sensors are picking up remnants of old transwarp trails.  
Meanwhile, Commander Chakotay is working closely with Mr. Neelix to provide  
accommodations for our guests.  
  
"So that's it, in terms of quarters," Chakotay said, checking the PADD once  
more. "Neelix, you're a marvel. I wouldn't have thought we could suddenly  
house fifty additional people with such ease."  
  
"It really wasn't hard," Neelix said modestly. "Most of the former drones  
don't mind sharing cabins; in fact, they feel more comfortable that way. As  
for the rest, some of our people volunteered to double up, thereby freeing  
even more space."  
  
"It's not as though we had to find room for 200 Klingon warriors," Chakotay  
agreed with a smile, "but still, you've done a good job."  
  
Neelix beamed. "Now in terms of food supplies..." His voice trailed off  
suddenly. Chakotay turned around, and saw the reason for it. Sarexa stood in  
the doorway.  
  
"You know, I think we're just about finished here, Neelix," Chakotay said,  
clapping him on the shoulder. "You can check with me later for the rest of  
the details." He nodded to Sarexa as he passed her on his way out.  
  
Neelix picked up several items laid out on the counter, and retreated to the  
back of the cooking area, feeling suddenly ill at ease. With a quick glance  
over his shoulder, he said, "Hello, Sarexa."  
  
She advanced further into the room, cutting the distance between them.  
"Neelix. I asked Seven where I could find you, and she said at this time of  
day you were sure to be in here."  
  
"That's right--I've got lots of cooking to do," Neelix said, clanging a  
saucepan lid, and making a show of checking the height of the flame on the  
range top. He avoided meeting her gaze.  
  
Sarexa was quiet for a moment. "I was wondering why I didn't see you  
earlier."  
  
Neelix said hurriedly, "I heard you were on board, of course. But I've been  
very busy." He stopped abruptly and looked at her for the first time. "I'm  
sorry. That's not quite true. I, uh, I didn't, that is--"  
  
"You didn't expect to see me again." Her voice was sad.  
  
"No, I didn't." He added, "Not that I'm not happy to do so now, you  
understand. I'm glad that you're all right. I was wondering about that,  
since we left the Trefla."  
  
"I've been thinking about you as well." Sarexa hesitated. "I know you were  
disappointed when I didn't stay on Voyager with you."  
  
Neelix swallowed and strove to keep his voice level. "You had your reasons."  
  
"Yes, I did," she said softly. She reached out tentatively to him, then  
pulled back, as if unsure of what his reaction would be.  
  
Neelix cursed himself for his cowardice, and took her hand in his own.  
"Well, the important thing is that you're here now," he reassured her.  
Hanging in the air between them was the unspoken thought that this reunion  
was most likely only temporary. He straightened up. "I was just about to  
start preparing dinner--would you like to give me a hand?"  
  
She smiled. "I'd love to."  
  
  
Act II  
  
Alpha shift was winding down. Chakotay sat in the command chair on the  
bridge. The captain, Seven and Tuvok were in her Ready Room, going over the  
latest data from Astrometrics.  
  
A class J nebula had been sighted 10 light years away; based on previous  
experience, they knew that such a celestial phenomenon could conceal a  
flotilla of ships. It was not the usual Borg modus operendi to lie in  
ambush, but ever since the encounter with the cube that had attacked the  
Tikvah, Janeway was taking no chances.  
  
Chakotay sighed to himself. The last few days had been relatively peaceful.  
The addition of the Tikvah refugees hadn't impacted too heavily on Voyager's  
normal operations. The former drones tended to keep to themselves. Except  
for Sarexa, who had been spending the majority of her time in the Mess Hall  
with Neelix. Chakotay wasn't surprised; he'd often suspected that Neelix,  
for all his bluster and good cheer, was lonely for others of his kind. Every  
light year Voyager traveled closer to the Alpha Quadrant was another light  
year farther from his own home. Neelix had never given any indication that  
he regretted his decision to join Voyager, even after Kes left them, but  
sometimes Chakotay wondered.  
  
Seven's behavior, on the other hand, was puzzling. She had reportedly been  
giving the newest passengers a wide berth. She couldn't avoid them entirely,  
as she had been assigned to work with them, but Chakotay had the distinct  
impression that Seven was uncomfortable around the other drones. But maybe  
it wasn't so surprising after all; she'd had a bad experience on board the  
Trefla.  
  
He shrugged. No doubt, Kathryn would sit her down for a talk at the earliest  
opportunity. If there was something bothering Seven, she was sure to confide  
in her mentor before too long.  
  
A sudden reading on his console drew his attention. Chakotay turned to Ops.  
"Harry--"  
  
"I'm on it, Commander," the lieutenant replied.  
  
Chakotay nodded. "Bridge to Captain Janeway. Looks like we've got some more  
company."  
  
The Ready Room doors parted instantly. Janeway settled into her seat. "What  
have we got?"  
  
"A transwarp conduit dead ahead, Captain, at a distance of 1.4 light years."  
  
Janeway nodded. Chakotay leaned over and said softly, "You don't seem very  
surprised."  
  
She smiled wryly. "That class J nebula we were investigating? Just as we  
suspected."  
  
"How many concealed ships?"  
  
"Four." She answered his unspoken question. "Borg."  
  
Seven checked a readout at the science station, where she'd taken up her  
position upon leaving the Ready Room. "I have just spoken with Icheb. He is  
not detecting any signals from these vessels that would indicate anything  
unusual."  
  
"In other words, these are not the specially modified Borg we encountered on  
Stardate 54414.5," said Chakotay, his tone belying the relief he felt  
inside. But it would be almost too much to hope that they would never tangle  
with them again; the Borg Queen undoubtedly would not give up until she had  
conquered Voyager.  
  
The captain's mind was obviously on more immediate matters. "That still  
leaves the question of are they 'regular' Borg, or renegades from the  
Collective like those that attacked the Tikvah," Janeway said.  
  
"We will know soon enough," Tuvok announced. "The conduit is opening--two  
ships are emerging."  
  
"Go to red alert," the captain said, studying a tactical display in front of  
her.  
  
"Captain, picking up readings from the nebula--those other ships are  
emerging," said Kim.  
  
"Battle stations," said the captain. She rose and went over to helm. "Tom,  
as soon as we get a trajectory on those ships, I want you to plot a course  
to get us out of here."  
  
"We can't outrun six cubes," Chakotay said.  
  
"No, we can't," said Janeway grimly, "but we can at least try to get out of  
the fire zone."  
  
The scene on the main view screen shifted between the cubes from the nebula,  
to the ones ahead of Voyager, newly emerged from the conduit. The trailing  
cubes rushed past the Federation starship, leaving it rocking strongly in  
their wake. One cube paused, passed a scanner beam over Voyager, and then  
hastened away.  
  
"Those four cubes are still connected to the Collective," said Tuvok.  
  
"But the others must not be, or else they wouldn't be attacking them," Kim  
said, relief in his voice.  
  
"That doesn't mean it's good news for us, Lieutenant," Chakotay said  
sharply.  
  
Janeway motioned for silence. "Cut the chatter, people, and concentrate on  
your stations."  
  
"Captain, I'm picking up communications between the vessels leaving the  
conduit. I have been able to make an identification of who is on board."  
Tuvok paused, as if to give his words greater impact. "It's General Korok."  
  
Janeway drew a quick intake of breath. Korok, the doughty Klingon warrior  
they'd encountered in Unimatrix Zero. What was he doing in this sector?  
  
The answer became evident when Korok's vessel began firing at the four cubes  
that had assumed an attack formation. The phasers lanced out, catching the  
central cube broadside. It disintegrated, but Korok's attempts to follow up  
on the other cubes were futile; the renewed energy bursts were deflected.  
  
"They've adapted," Chakotay said quietly.  
  
It appeared that Korok wasn't out of options yet; a round of torpedoes  
eliminated yet another of the cubes, leaving two more, both of whom promptly  
began pounding Korok's forces. The outlook was not favorable.  
  
"Are we going in?" Paris asked expectantly.  
  
Janeway frowned. A reasonable enough question, considering their actions  
regarding the Tikvah. Now her first impulse was to step in and help as well,  
but her instincts were telling her that this wasn't just an isolated  
squabble. If she was right, if there was a lot more at stake--could she risk  
entangling Voyager in a possible Borg Civil War?  
  
For a long moment, the internal debate waged. Then her sense of moral  
responsibility kicked in. "Yes, Mr. Paris, we're going in. Mr. Tuvok, stand  
by to fire in a rotating pulse, on my order."  
  
She turned to Chakotay next. "Remember your hare-brained maneuver when we  
re-entered Borg space a few months ago?" She smiled, but there was no mirth  
in her eyes. "It's time for an encore."  
  
Scant minutes later, a debris field of exploded hulls lay scattered where  
the flotilla of cubes had been, and Korok was hailing Voyager.  
  
***  
  
The senior staff was assembled in the briefing room when Korok entered. He  
walked slowly, with a noticeable limp, due to an ill-fitting prosthetic leg.  
His companion looked as battle-scarred as the old Klingon; Chakotay couldn't  
identify his species, but thought perhaps he was Brunali.  
  
Torres stood in respect as Korok shuffled past. "nuqneH," she growled, as  
Tom rose as well to stand at his wife's side.  
  
Korok halted in surprise, and studied the young woman. "tlhIngan!" He  
immediately switched to Federation Standard. "It has been too long since I  
have laid eyes on another Klingon. Not many of my people lived to be taken  
by the Borg at Wolf 359."  
  
Chakotay thought he could detect a note of regret in Korok's voice that left  
no doubt about what he wished his own fate had been. Understandable--most  
people would probably choose an honored place in Sto-Vo-Kor to assimilation.  
  
Korok continued to eye B'Elanna appraisingly. "You are with child?"  
  
"Yes, I am," she answered patiently, even though at this point her condition  
had progressed to where it was evident to even a casual observer.  
  
"May he grow to be as fine a warrior as his fathers before him," Korok  
intoned and gave a fearsome smile.  
  
"I'm sure *she* will," put in Tom, placing a possessive arm around  
B'Elanna's shoulders.  
  
Korok laughed and then quickly sobered as he directed his attention to the  
head of the conference table. "Captain Janeway."  
  
"General Korok," Janeway replied, as she made a reasonable facsimile of the  
Klingon salute. "Please take a seat." She quickly made the introductions.  
"Commander Chakotay, my first officer, Commander Tuvok, my chief of  
security, Lieutenant Kim, chief of Ops, our Doctor...and you've already met  
Lieutenants Torres and Paris, my chief engineer and flight conn officer."  
  
"My lead gunner, Roju," Korok said, clapping his hand on the other man's  
shoulder as they seated themselves. Korok looked around the room. "I do not  
see Annika. Does she still live?"  
  
"She'll be joining us shortly," answered Janeway smoothly. "A last minute  
problem arose in her department."  
  
Korok nodded briskly. "To business then."  
  
"To business," echoed Janeway. "We were surprised to encounter your ship in  
this sector."  
  
"No more surprised than I was to see you, Captain," he answered. "But very  
grateful, as once again you have stepped in to aid us in our hour of need."  
  
Janeway inclined her head graciously, but Korok wasn't finished. "And I  
consider it particularly fortuitous that our paths have intersected at this  
particular moment in time."  
  
"Why?" asked Chakotay. "Does this have anything to do with your reasons for  
firing upon those other Borg vessels?"  
  
Janeway shot him an annoyed look, but Chakotay did not feel abashed. He knew  
from his years of service in Starfleet and exposure to Klingon culture that  
Korok would respond better to a direct question. Bluntness was cultivated as  
a Klingon virtue; their people believed in coming straight to the heart of a  
matter.  
  
Korok smiled. "You have a shrewd second in command, Captain, who serves you  
well." He leaned his elbows on the table and brought his formidable hands  
together. "You are correct, Commander. They are related. Seven months ago,  
by means of your virus, you allowed myself and others like me, those who had  
shared in the experience of Unimatrix Zero, to remember our former lives and  
know ourselves once more. You also gave us the means to fight back, to  
strike a blow against the Collective."  
  
Janeway nodded. "Unfortunately, the end results were not as clearly defined  
as we would have liked to see. Many drones were able to break their  
connections to the Borg, but others remain firmly ensconced within the  
Collective."  
  
"Exactly," said Korok. "And that is what my mission has been, since we  
parted from you all those months ago. I seek nothing less than to liberate  
as many of those that remain enslaved as possible."  
  
Janeway drew in a sharp intake of breath. Judging by the looks on their  
faces, most of the senior staff had a similar reaction.  
  
Tuvok frowned. "That is a massive undertaking, General Korok, not to mention  
one fraught with risk. The Collective comprises well over one and a half  
billion drones. You are heavily outnumbered in terms of manpower alone, let  
alone ships and armaments."  
  
"Any enterprise worthy of the name entails some risk," shot back Roju. "And  
we have resources and allies besides."  
  
"We have been joined by a number of worlds the Borg have raided, who have  
contributed ships and soldiers for the fight," Korok added. "There is  
scarcely a world in the quadrant that has not encountered the Borg in the  
course of their history; many have been completely obliterated, whereas  
others have been weakened to the point of total collapse. But you would be  
amazed at how many of the survivors have clamored to join our cause, eager  
to strike a blow at their most hated enemy."  
  
"I can certainly understand that," Janeway said as the door to the briefing  
room opened and Seven slipped in quietly and seated herself. "So the two  
ships you have with you now do not comprise the total of your strength."  
  
"Not at all," Roju said proudly.  
  
Korok glanced sharply at his companion. "But neither are we so strong that  
we are not still in need of other strong allies." He leaned forward, and  
fixed his piercing gaze on the captain's face. "Join us, Janeway. Help us in  
our quest to continue freeing drones from the Collective."  
  
Janeway met his eyes unflinchingly. "I'm sorry, Korok, but I must decline."  
  
"What?" said Korok, clearly taken aback by her response. "How can you  
refuse? It is but a continuation of what you started when you first came to  
Unimatrix Zero and urged us to take up arms against the Borg Collective. How  
can you back away now?"  
  
"I'm sorry," said Janeway in the same steely tone. "I will continue with the  
policy of helping victims where I can, and will fight to defend our allies  
should we come across any battles. But my first responsibility is to my ship  
and crew; I will not commit to any aggressive moves against the Collective  
itself."  
  
Korok gave a derisive laugh. "A compromise that will prove to be unworkable.  
Do you not see that it is for your crew's benefit that you join us? Do you  
think Voyager alone and unaided can stand up to the full might of the Borg?"  
His lip curled. "If I had not prior knowledge, I might have grounds to doubt  
your courage. As well as your honor."  
  
Janeway refused to rise to the bait. "I understand that you are  
disappointed, Korok, but my answer remains the same."  
  
Korok got to his feet. "Then we have nothing further to discuss." He turned  
to Roju. "Come, it is time we returned to the Taj. Our path is laid in front  
of us, and we have much to do."  
  
***  
  
Janeway settled back into her desk chair with a sigh. Without asking,  
Chakotay went to the replicator and brought her a cup of coffee.  
  
She closed her eyes as she savored the brew. "Thanks. Is it that obvious?"  
  
"How exhausted you are? Yes." He sat down in the chair opposite her and took  
a drink of his own tea.  
  
"All part of the territory." She checked the chronometer. "Tuvok will be  
here in a few moments, so we can go over our weapons manifest. The Zornon  
technology has been a real Godsend, and has been working out very well, but  
it's only a matter of time until the Borg adapt. We need to think ahead to  
the next step."  
  
"Agreed. But at least when fighting any 'disconnected' drones, we won't have  
to worry about the Collective as a whole making adaptations to our modified  
systems."  
  
"Chalk up one for dealing with the pirates, then," she said and put her cup  
down. She turned to her computer terminal and tapped in a series of  
commands.  
  
"Before you begin with that, Captain..." he hesitated, not quite sure how to  
broach the subject.  
  
"Yes? Was there something you wanted to discuss, before Tuvok arrives?"  
  
He decided to start with the lesser of the two evils he needed to say.  
"Seven of Nine."  
  
"What about her?" asked Janeway warily.  
  
"I'd like to know what's going on with her lately. Her behavior has been  
very odd. Coming late to meetings, leaving duty shifts early, avoiding any  
contact with Sarexa or the other drones from the Tikvah..." He paused for a  
moment. "Do I need to go on?"  
  
"No," Janeway said quietly. "You've made your point." She picked up her cup  
again, but put it down almost immediately. "Seven hasn't confided in me,  
really, but I get the sense that she is having a hard time coming to terms  
with herself and where she belongs."  
  
Chakotay raised a brow. "She's been on board this vessel for four years now.  
What suddenly brought this on?"  
  
"It's not sudden," Janeway said. "I first noticed her uneasiness a few  
months ago. What was it?" she said, tapping her fingers on the desktop in  
concentration. "Ah, yes. We were talking about writing letters home--she  
asked why we felt it necessary to write to people we hadn't seen in years,  
and most likely wouldn't be seeing for another decade or two. I tried to  
explain, and during the course of the conversation I got the distinct  
impression that she's rather nervous about returning to the Alpha Quadrant.  
Despite the fact that she's 'adapted' so well to life on Voyager." Janeway  
sighed. "I'm guessing that seeing all these former drones now is making her  
uncomfortable, that they remind her of the two worlds she's straddling, not  
fully belonging to either one."  
  
Slowly, Chakotay nodded. "That's as good an explanation as any, I suppose."  
He looked down at his own cup, absently swirling the small amount of liquid  
at the bottom. "Speaking of straddling, Captain..."  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"I have to tell you I have some doubts whether your policy toward the Borg,  
as you outlined to Korok, will be viable or not," he said carefully.  
  
Janeway didn't pretend to misunderstand him. "My complacency--or arrogance,  
if you will--where the Borg are concerned has led me into too many  
confrontations with them in the past." She stood abruptly, and began pacing.  
"Raiding a cube for a transwarp coil, taking the Delta Flyer into the heart  
of the Borg complex, deliberately letting myself and two of my officers be  
assimilated--"  
  
"You had your reasons for each of those actions," he objected.  
  
She stopped and looked at him. "I always have reasons for everything I do,  
Chakotay," she said ruefully. "And you know what? That's what scares me the  
most."  
  
He shook his head impatiently. "Consider what would have happened if you  
hadn't done any of those things. Seven would have been reassimilated into  
the Collective and forced to help them conquer humanity, for starters. That  
'assimilation virus' she mentioned the Borg were working on scares the hell  
out of me."  
  
"Me, too," Janeway said softly, her gaze resting not on him, but on the  
vista of stars outside the viewport. "Thank God for Icheb's research."  
  
"Getting yourself assimilated *was* a big gamble," he continued, "But look  
at what it accomplished. How many former drones owe their freedom to the  
virus you introduced into the Collective?"  
  
"But that also means I bear responsibility for the other, less desirable  
consequences of that act," she countered.  
  
"Not ultimate responsibility. You gave the drones the means to achieve their  
freedom. What they've chosen to do with it is another matter entirely."  
  
"That's what I keep telling myself." She sighed again and sank down upon the  
couch. "I can't let Voyager get caught up in the war. The risks are just too  
great. But at the same time, I wonder if I have the right to just walk  
away."  
  
"It's a fine line," Chakotay agreed. He looked at her more closely, noted  
the haunted look in her eyes; Korok's words had obviously hit home. "nIteb  
Qob qaD jup 'e' chaw'be' SuvwI'," he murmured.  
  
"What?"  
  
"An old Klingon proverb. 'A warrior does not let a friend face danger  
alone.'"  
  
Her shoulders slumped tiredly. "Exactly."  
  
"Here's another one, though--DujiIIj yIvoq', which means trust your  
instincts." He moved next to her and carefully, almost tentatively put his  
hands on her shoulders. "That's the only thing you can do."  
  
She was silent for a moment, and he wondered what was going through her  
mind. "I didn't realize you were such a Klingon scholar."  
  
"I have many hidden talents," he said with a smile. He could feel her  
tension--the muscles were all knotted up. Slowly, he began massaging her  
shoulders and neck. "Dates back to my early years in service. Remember the  
officer exchange program the 'Fleet had with the Klingon empire?"  
  
Her eyes still closed, she said, "Don't tell me you served aboard a Klingon  
ship?"  
  
She was beginning to relax. Good. "No, but we did have a Klingon officer  
aboard the Okinawa for a few weeks," he said.  
  
"That must have been an interesting experience," she said, a bit drowsily,  
as his hands continued to move rhythmically up and down her back. She  
sighed, and leaned more fully against him. "Oh..."  
  
The door signaled.  
  
Janeway immediately jumped up, and hastily returned to her seat behind the  
desk. "Come in," she called, sounding a bit flustered.  
  
Chakotay took a deep breath himself, to regain his composure. What had just  
happened? He had only meant to try and help her relax, but...  
  
Tuvok entered, a PADD under his arm, and any chance to discuss what had just  
transpired between them was gone. The three officers were soon deeply  
involved in a discussion of shield capabilities and armaments.  
  
***  
  
The next morning, Janeway stuck her head into the chief engineer's office  
but there was no one there. Janeway advanced into main engineering, and  
immediately spotted Torres monitoring the EPS conduits, rapidly barking  
orders to Vorik and Joe Carey. The half-Klingon stopped when she saw the  
captain.  
  
"Captain, I'm glad you're here." Torres wheeled away and headed over to  
another station, the increasing bulk of her advancing pregnancy not seeming  
to slow her down at all.  
  
"You said it was important." Janeway said, instinctively glancing up at the  
shimmering blue column of the warp core. "Is there a problem, Lieutenant?  
Does this concern the transwarp project?"  
  
Torres shook her head. "No, it's the regular drive." She bit her lip in  
concentration, as she rapidly calibrated the system and took new readings,  
then compared them with those on the monitor over her left shoulder. "Just a  
minor problem that's cropped up. Nothing serious, but I'll need to take the  
warp engines off-line intermittently over the next few days to track it down  
and correct it."  
  
"Days?" Janeway stepped forward and took a look for herself. "Damn. I see  
what you mean. This may be just a minor glitch, but on the other hand..."  
  
"It could develop into something major," Torres finished.  
  
"Best to nip in the bud then." Janeway frowned, then patted Torres on the  
shoulder. "All right, Lieutenant, go ahead. The sooner we correct this, the  
better."  
  
"I know the timing is less than ideal," Torres said apologetically.  
  
Janeway snorted. "When is it ever ideal? But if we've got to be without warp  
capability, at least it's at a time when we've got allies in the vicinity."  
  
  
Act III  
  
  
"This place," declared Tom Paris dramatically, "Is turning into Borg  
Central!"  
  
Harry Kim didn't even look up from his lunch tray, where he was  
concentrating on cutting the chunks of *basar adom* into smaller and smaller  
pieces. "I suppose you're referring to Axum's ship hailing us this morning?"  
  
"That's right," answered Paris. He took a bite of his replicated grilled  
cheese sandwich. "You going to eat that?" he asked, jabbing a finger at  
Kim's plate.  
  
"Eventually," Kim said. "Why?"  
  
"Because it looks as though you're under the impression that if you slice it  
into enough pieces, it will disappear completely."  
  
A faint grin appeared on Kim's face, which rapidly changed to a grimace when  
he looked back down at his plate. "I'd forgotten how much I disliked this  
particular entree, that's all."  
  
"Then why'd you get it?"  
  
"Out of replicator rations," was the succinct reply. Kim speared some of the  
pieces on his fork and manfully chewed and swallowed. "This almost makes me  
wish for some leola root."  
  
"Even if Neelix had any, you can be sure he wouldn't waste any of it on  
you," Paris said with a knowing smirk. He motioned toward the kitchen, where  
an animated Sarexa could be seen assisting Neelix. "He's finally found  
someone who appreciates Talaxian cuisine."  
  
"So it seems," Kim said. He picked up his glass of *agas* juice and took a  
long drink of the pale green liquid. "You were saying, about Axum?"  
  
"Doesn't it strike you as more than just a coincidence that Axum's ship  
shows up now, out of the blue?"  
  
"It's not entirely unexpected, Tom. Seven made contact with him back when we  
encountered the Trefla. He told her then that he was headed this way.  
Remember, the Borg ships can travel a lot faster than we can."  
  
"I know, I know. It just seems strange, first we meet up with the drones who  
left the Trefla, then in short order, Korok, followed a few days later by  
Axum. It's almost as if..." Paris' voice trailed off.  
  
"As if what?" asked Kim as he steeled himself for another mouthful of his  
main course.  
  
"As if all the pieces were being assembled on a chessboard, for a reason."  
  
Kim looked up with a grin that quickly faded when he saw the look on Paris'  
face. "Meaning? Come on, Tom, talk to me."  
  
"It's probably nothing." Paris shrugged, then admitted, "I've got a bad  
feeling about all of this."  
  
"You're just feeling a little jumpy, that's all," Kim said reassuringly.  
"Being in such close proximity to so many Borg vessels, whether friends or  
foes, is enough to give anyone a case of nerves." He did not say what was  
uppermost on both their minds--the fact that the Borg Queen, having failed  
in her earlier attempt to destroy them, was bound to try again one day.  
Harry forced a smile. "I know I'll feel a lot better once we get out of this  
sector."  
  
"B'Elanna's doing her best," Tom said. He sighed. "But now the starboard  
nacelle has started acting up again. She's been putting in double shifts,  
trying to correct that, as well as get the warp engines back to optimal  
performance levels."  
  
"Should she be working such long hours, in her condition?" Kim said,  
concerned.  
  
Paris smiled, but it wasn't a pleasant expression. "You try telling her  
that." He rose to his feet. "Speaking of which, I'm going to see if I can  
get her to take a break for a bit, before the meeting at 1300 hours."  
  
"Good luck," Kim said. "To both of you."  
  
***  
  
Janeway glanced around the briefing room. Axum had beamed over a short time  
ago and was filling them in on his experiences over the last seven months.  
Janeway found her attention wandering a bit; much of what Axum was saying  
had already been reported to her by Seven, who'd been in intermittent  
contact with Axum for the past several weeks.  
  
The captain found it more interesting to observe the others in the room.  
Despite the fact he didn't resemble him physically, there was something  
about Axum that reminded her of Chakotay. The calm sense of self, the  
commanding presence. Janeway also noticed she wasn't the only one studying  
him carefully. Seven hadn't taken her eyes off him once, was obviously  
overjoyed to see him.  
  
Janeway's ears perked up when Axum brought up the subject of Riley Frazier  
and her new Cooperative. "They were very helpful in terms of providing  
supplies, and offered to let us stay and join them. In fact, they seemed  
quite eager for us to do so."  
  
"I'm sure," Chakotay said, an undercurrent of strong emotion in his voice.  
Janeway automatically put a reassuring hand on his arm, and he subsided.  
  
"Did you have any indication that Dr. Frazier's group was also engaged in  
any of the raiding we've seen by other drones?" Janeway asked.  
  
"No," Axum assured them. "They are interested in consolidating their hold on  
their own planet, and nothing more. It may be that other groups of drones  
have since joined them, but I do not believe they are interested in making  
any conquests outside of their own territory." Axum looked grave. "Although  
that may be subject to change."  
  
"Is there anything else you can tell us about the Collective itself?" asked  
Tuvok.  
  
Axum shook his head. "It has been many months since we've encountered any  
cubes that were still connected to the Collective. And we have certainly not  
come into contact with any specially modified drones, such as the ones that  
attacked you a few months ago. Our energies have been directed toward  
finding a place where we can settle and live in peace. Although it has  
proven to be very difficult."  
  
"How so?" said Chakotay.  
  
He sighed. "Surely you are aware, Commander, of the fear and loathing in  
which the Borg are held. Despite the fact that we are no longer truly Borg,  
we carry the taint of the Collective. We are a reminder of every atrocity  
committed, every person lost, every world devastated."  
  
"I'm sorry to hear that," Janeway said. She gave a wry smile.  
"Unfortunately, that reaction is all too understandable."  
  
"Indeed," Axum replied. "Unfortunately, there are not many unclaimed  
inhabitable planets, and none of the populated ones we've encountered so far  
are willing to have former Borg among them."  
  
"I wish there were something we could do," Janeway began.  
  
"Captain," said Kim suddenly. "I think I may have an answer."  
  
***  
  
"Annika."  
  
Seven turned around at the familiar voice. "Axum."  
  
He looked around the aeroponics bay in undisguised appreciation. "This is  
quite lovely. Do you come here often?"  
  
She hesitated. "Not as often as many others in the crew."  
  
"Well, you should." He breathed in deeply. "Those plants there, they remind  
me of the *vored* flowers in Unimatrix Zero. Do you remember? The little  
pink ones."  
  
"Down by the waterfall." She nodded. "Yes, I remember those as well."  
  
There was silence while Axum bent down to examine the blooms on another  
bush. He straightened up. "Annika, do you ever think of those days?"  
  
"Very often." Despite her best efforts, her voice trembled. "I was happy  
just to make contact with you several weeks ago. Now, to actually see  
you..."  
  
"I'm glad to have this chance as well." He sat down on one of the benches  
and looked at her expectantly.  
  
She seated herself at his side, and cast about for a 'safe' topic of  
conversation. "Why didn't you choose to stay with Dr. Riley's Cooperative?"  
  
Axum sighed. "That is not the sort of life I had envisioned after leaving  
the Collective. Although the New Cooperative appears to be a benign entity,  
at least as compared to the Borg, it is still a group consciousness.  
Individuality is absent." He shook his head emphatically. "That is not the  
type of society I want to live in, not what I've been striving for all these  
months. Despite the conflicts inherent in dealing with individuals,  
personal freedom is something I will not sacrifice, not even in the name of  
peace."  
  
"What do you envision?" she asked curiously. "Could you tell me?"  
  
"I'd love to." Seven leaned back and listened as he spoke. She found herself  
strongly attracted to his vision of a hybrid society, incorporating elements  
from his people's homeworlds together with what was useful from the  
Collective. He wasn't turning his back on either part of his heritage,  
acknowledging that both had contributed to making him the person he was  
today. She couldn't help contrasting his attitude with the one that had been  
prevalent on the Trefla. Or even, she acknowledged painfully, with her own  
torturous journey en route to rediscovering her humanity.  
  
She became aware that Axum had finished, his gaze intent upon her face. Her  
breath caught at the look in his eyes.  
  
Axum smiled at her and took her hand. "But now, thanks to Voyager, I'm  
confident that our luck is about to change."  
***  
"Greetings. This is your old friend Harry Kim aboard Voyager." Kim paused  
for a moment. He was in Astrometrics, preparing a message to the Pojzan.  
  
"When I said goodbye to you several weeks ago, you made an offer to share  
your sanctuary with others seeking refuge. I'm sending such a group to you  
now..."  
  
Axum had been very interested in hearing about Voyager's recent encounters  
with various groups of Borg, as well as their victims. Of prime importance  
however, was the news of the hidden Pojzan world. It had immediately  
occurred to everyone concerned that this represented the best solution for  
all. Axum and his followers had long been searching for a planet on which  
they could build a new home, one that would be sheltered from the  
vicissitudes of life in the sector, far away from the strife they'd  
encountered so far.  
  
Axum had also agreed to have the drones from the Tikvah join his group.  
Though she didn't say so in so many words, Captain Janeway had been very  
relieved by this turn of events. While Voyager had been providing temporary  
quarters for the former drones, anything permanent would have strained their  
resources beyond what they could handle.  
  
"Although they are former Borg, you have no reason to fear them. They are no  
longer members of the Collective, and want only to be left alone in peace.  
They present no threat to you..."  
  
Harry glanced at the blonde woman working at a nearby console, and  
remembered the first time he had worked in close quarters with Seven of  
Nine. Although disconnected from the Collective, she had nonetheless  
attacked him, seized the opportunity to attempt to contact the Borg.  
  
Harry smiled, thinking what a long way they'd come since that day. He felt  
more at ease with her now than he ever thought he would. First her  
'Borgness' had put him off, then her stunning looks. Truth be told, he  
wasn't sure what had intimidated him more. Despite all that, he'd developed  
more than just a slight crush on her. It had taken a long time for him to  
realize she just needed a friend to help her adjust to her new surroundings  
and life. Anything else was out of the question--even if she had one time  
inquired whether he 'wished to copulate' with her. Harry felt the blush rise  
in his cheeks, even at this late date, and turned his attention back to his  
task.  
  
"In fact, with their skills and technical knowledge, they will prove to be a  
very useful addition to your colony. I'm also sending along a few more  
stories from our database that I think you'll like. They're legends from an  
ancient people on Earth, the Norsemen, who were brave warriors and  
explorers.  
  
"I hope that this message finds you all in good health, and that the Shire  
continues to grow and flourish."  
  
The door to Astrometrics opened, just as Harry was finishing. He looked up  
and saw Axum standing near the entrance, almost hesitantly.  
  
"Lieutenant Kim, Annika," said Axum, although his attention was focused  
solely on Seven. "I hope I'm not interrupting anything?"  
  
"Not at all," Kim said, pocketing the data rod. "I'll just go run this by  
the captain."  
  
"Lieutenant Kim, there is no need for you to go," began Seven, but Harry had  
already left.  
  
"Do you need to leave as well, Annika?" said Axum.  
  
Seven was about to answer that there were another 3.4 hours remaining in her  
duty shift, and barring an emergency, she was not in the habit of leaving  
Astrometrics until her relief arrived. One look at Axum's expression,  
however, drove all such thoughts out of her head. He looked tense, yet  
inexplicably, happy at the same time. "Not if you wish me to stay," she  
replied with a smile.  
  
He caught her hand in his own and looked deeply into her eyes. "I do want  
you to stay with me," he said, his voice curiously husky. "Now, and always."  
  
  
Act IV  
  
  
The door signal to her quarters chimed, startling Janeway from her reverie.  
Her sleep, she admitted ruefully, glancing at the open book on her lap; she  
must have dozed off.  
  
She checked the chronometer: 0230. Chakotay had left more than an hour ago,  
but she'd been too keyed up to go to bed right away, particularly after  
their discussion of Axum's offer and its implications for Voyager.  
  
The door chimed once more. "Come in," she called, wondering who it could be  
at this hour, but not really surprised when she saw Seven of Nine enter.  
  
Her automatically thinking of the young woman's Borg designation did  
surprise her, however. How long had it been since she'd referred to the  
former Annika Hansen as 'Seven' without consciously remembering what it  
stood for? Years, most likely. And she'd had less reason to do so now, as  
the young woman was wearing her blue science uniform, as she did regularly  
while on duty. Although she hadn't yet accepted the captain's offer of a  
field commission, Seven had discarded her earlier, more form-fitting outfits  
in favor of the Starfleet garb several weeks ago.  
  
"That uniform looks good on you," Janeway said with a smile, laying  
"Beowulf" aside; for some reason, her preference for late-night reading  
material ran to the ancient Terran classics, the older the better. "Although  
I'm sure there are a few crew members who may feel otherwise."  
  
Seven didn't respond, although on other occasions she had been seen to crack  
a brief smile, particularly as her understanding of humor and innuendo had  
increased. "I have a problem I wish to discuss with you, Captain," she said  
bluntly. There was a time when the former drone would have simply forged  
ahead and stated her concerns, but Seven paused. "I hope I am not disturbing  
you. I did not realize the hour was so late."  
  
"It's all right, Seven," Janeway replied in a reassuring voice. "As you can  
see, I haven't gone to bed yet."  
  
"But you were obviously resting."  
  
"It's all right," Janeway repeated patiently. "What's on your mind?"  
  
Still Seven hesitated. "It is curious that you mentioned my uniform,  
Captain, as that is related to what I wished to discuss."  
  
"Have you decided to accept a Starfleet commission?" Janeway asked.  
Considering the amount of time that had elapsed since the offer had first  
been made, she wondered why it couldn't wait till morning.  
  
"No. It's about Axum."  
  
Suddenly Janeway knew what Seven was going to say. "Please, Seven, have a  
seat."  
  
The younger woman sat down stiffly on the edge of the couch, and met the  
captain's gaze unflinchingly. "In another day or two, Axum and the others  
will be leaving for the Pojzan colony. He has asked me to accompany them."  
  
"I see," Janeway said. "Are you going to take him up on his offer?"  
  
"I am leaning toward going, however..."  
  
"You feel torn," Janeway finished gently.  
  
"Yes. Establishing a new type of society with other freed drones has a  
strong allure--" Seven broke off uncomfortably, but then continued. "They  
have tried and failed to live in peace with other denizens of the quadrant.  
Despite the fact that they are no longer part of the Collective, they still  
carry the taint of being Borg, and while some may forgive them their  
actions, others remember all too well the damage they caused."  
  
"And there are other groups of former drones still wreaking havoc in the  
sector," Janeway said quietly. "We've come across a few examples ourselves."  
  
"There is no denying that, Captain. But despite Axum's claims of wanting  
only to be left alone, of not meaning any harm, he is being treated as  
though he too were raiding helpless civilians."  
  
"You can't honestly blame the other species in this region," Janeway pointed  
out. "They have suffered greatly."  
  
"I do not. Which is why the Pojzan solution is the correct one--for Axum and  
his followers, as well as the drones from the Tivka." Seven took a deep  
breath, then looked Janeway in the eye. "And for myself as well."  
  
Janeway leaned forward and lightly touched Seven's arm. "Seven, Voyager is  
your home. I won't deny that many of the crew eyed you askance at first, but  
over time they all came to accept you."  
  
"The crew of Voyager has, because they had your example to follow, Captain,"  
Seven said. Was that a trace of bitterness in her voice? "*You* did not view  
me as an unspeakable evil, nor a representative of all the loss and death  
your planet has suffered. You saw me as a human being, and persuaded the  
rest of the crew to do so as well. But there is no guarantee that the  
citizens of the Federation will not in fact see me as anything other than a  
murderous Borg."  
  
Janeway dropped her sympathetic manner. "Is that what this is about?" she  
asked, her voice sharp. "You want to leave because you're afraid of what  
kind of reception you'll receive once we return to the Alpha Quadrant? Why  
are you convinced that you're automatically going to face prejudice and  
blame?"  
  
"Why are you so convinced that I will not?" countered Seven. "With all due  
respect, Captain, you have been away from the Federation for seven years.  
Your only contact is the recently established monthly datastream. Can you be  
so certain that your interpretation of the moods and intentions of the  
people, of Starfleet Command, is correct?"  
  
*And so certain that you'd gamble her future on the strength of your  
convictions, Kathryn?* Janeway shifted uncomfortably in her seat. She looked  
into Seven's uncompromising gaze once more. "Be it as it may, Seven, you  
know that I'll do everything in my power to help you, to make sure you're  
not made into a scapegoat, but accepted on your own merits."  
  
"I don't doubt that," Seven said quietly. "Although you'll be quite busy  
fighting for the other segments of your crew whose status may be in doubt."  
  
The Maquis, not to mention the surviving crew from the Equinox. But Janeway  
did not intend to go into that now, allow Seven to distract her from the  
issue at hand.  
  
Before she could say anything further, however, Seven went on. "But I am not  
choosing to go with Axum as a means of running away from or avoiding any  
ugly confrontations. I'm going because---"  
  
Janeway did not miss the interplay of emotions across Seven's features.  
"Because it will be *with* Axum."  
  
"Yes. We will have the opportunity to recreate in reality what we shared in  
Unimatrix Zero."  
  
The captain's stance softened. "When you put it that way...yes, I can see  
that is a compelling reason for you to go."  
  
"I didn't say I had reached a final decision."  
  
"You've certainly made quite a case for doing so. What's holding you back?"  
Janeway asked, curious.  
  
"I will miss the friendships I have forged on board Voyager. Lieutenant Kim,  
the Doctor, Naomi Wildman...and you, Captain." Seven swallowed, her eyes  
glistening with sudden tears. "I can never repay you for what you have done  
for me. Not just for separating me from the Collective, but for your  
insistence I could not contemplate returning to them until I had learned  
enough of humanity to be able to make an informed decision for myself."  
  
Janeway remembered that conversation very well. She closed her eyes as she  
was transported back in time to that confrontation in the brig with a  
strident and aggressive former drone. Seven had been desperate to return to  
the Collective, unable to bear the silence of only a single voice, a single  
set of thoughts. "I didn't understand what you went through then, Seven, not  
entirely, until this year when I too experienced the call of the Collective.  
For a brief moment I felt what it was like to exist as a group  
consciousness, instead of as an individual. The transition back  
was--jarring. It must have been even harder for you."  
  
Seven nodded. "I know I did not make it easy for you, then or afterwards. My  
actions aboard Voyager were often the source of many difficulties. Not to  
mention a cause of conflict between yourself and certain members of the  
senior staff."  
  
Janeway started. "I won't deny that we had our difficulties in the  
past"--and she was most definitely not going to get into the areas Seven  
touched on in the last part of her statement!--"but in the long run it was  
worth it. To see you as you are today, the woman you've developed into--that  
makes it all worthwhile."  
  
"Not many would have had the patience that you exhibited, Captain, and for  
that I am deeply appreciative. I have tried to learn by example, and I have  
seen you give your all for your crew, even to the extent of sacrificing your  
own personal happiness for the safety and welfare of the ship. It is that  
which makes me hesitate now--how can I leave Voyager, if by doing so I am  
endangering the ship, or at least decreasing its chances of survival, and of  
returning home?"  
  
Janeway didn't know whether to laugh or cry. "You're not exactly leaving us  
in the lurch, Seven," she said carefully. "We *did* manage to survive a  
number of crises before you joined us, and I imagine we will be able to do  
so in the future." She leaned forward, and clasped Seven's hand tightly in  
her own. "We will all miss you, but you need to follow your heart."  
  
Seven gave her a grateful look, and rose. "Thank you, Captain. You have  
helped me put things in their proper perspective."  
  
"Then you are going?" All at once Janeway had a sense of déjà vu,  
remembering a conversation very like this, four years earlier, with another  
young woman whom she'd helped mentor, had grown to feel a special closeness  
to. She too had made a decision to follow her destiny, one apart from  
Voyager. *Oh, Kes,* Janeway thought sadly. *I don't know if I have ever  
gotten used to your not being here, and now I have to say another  
goodbye...* She forced herself to listen to Seven's answer.  
  
"Yes, I am." Seven turned to go, then hesitated by the door. "Captain?"  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"It may be worthwhile for you to follow your own advice." Seven then swept  
out through the door, leaving a dumbfounded Janeway behind her.  
  
***  
  
Naomi Wildman watched from the shadows of the cargo bay, her presence  
unnoticed by the two people there. Icheb and Seven were engaged in a tense  
conversation.  
  
Although she'd come in the middle, Naomi had no trouble guessing what they  
were talking about. The rumor of Seven's leaving had already swept through  
the ship, and she guessed Icheb had immediately gone to confront Seven with  
the news, much as she herself had come to the cargo bay now. Naomi crept a  
little closer, to hear more clearly.  
  
"I can understand why the prospect of going with Axum appeals to you," Icheb  
said, "But what I cannot understand is how you can just leave everyone here  
behind!"  
  
It appeared that Seven heard the same entreaty that Naomi did, that what  
Icheb was really saying was, 'How can you leave *me*?' "Axum's offer is  
extended to you as well," Seven said gently, as she continued to pack.  
  
"Why? Because I was once Borg?" Icheb's anger was apparent. "Because it is  
ludicrous to assume that I could ever belong fully anywhere but with a group  
of other ex-Borg?"  
  
"I did not say that, and by your doing so, you are exhibiting the same type  
of prejudice and narrow-mindedness that has driven Axum and his followers  
halfway across the quadrant seeking sanctuary, a homeworld of their own  
where they will be undisturbed."  
  
Icheb's gaze dropped. "I am sorry, Seven," he said. "I didn't mean to--"  
  
"It is not unusual for someone who is hurting to strike out," Seven  
answered. She reached out to him, a little hesitantly. "Icheb, I know you  
don't want to lose me. I feel the same way about you. When the twins and  
Mezoti left, I felt bereft although I knew they were going to a better  
place, where they could truly belong and feel loved. I know it was hard on  
you then as well, but we had to let them go." Her gaze locked on his own.  
"Can't you see that the current circumstances are the same? I love Axum, I  
loved him for years without realizing it, and then I lost him. I can't turn  
down the opportunity now of being with him."  
  
"What about the people here?"  
  
"Most of the crew has welcomed me and helped me find a place among them,"  
Seven admitted. "But this is not where I was meant to be. And after  
Voyager's return to the Alpha Quadrant, what then? My 'family' here will  
scatter, and I don't know the family my parents left behind years ago."  
  
Slowly Icheb shook his head. "No, I don't blame you." Bitterness clouded his  
features. "I know that my own attempt to leave Voyager to join my 'family'  
was not successful."  
  
Naomi could hold back no longer, and burst out, "But it's not the same  
thing! Oh, Icheb, it's not the same thing at all!"  
  
"Naomi," Seven said in surprise. With a pang, Naomi was suddenly reminded  
how Seven used to refer to her as 'subunit of Ensign Wildman' when they  
first became friends. "I was not aware that you were here."  
  
"I heard everything you said," Naomi said, blinking back tears, although she  
couldn't say who they were for. "Icheb, if being with Axum is where Seven  
feels she belongs, then she should go. Even though," her voice trembled,  
"even though we're going to miss her terribly."  
  
"Thank you, Naomi." Naomi was surprised, but pleased, when Seven hugged her.  
Seven had never been one for showing overt affection. Seven quickly  
straightened up. "I need to take care of a few things, but I will see you  
both later."  
  
"At Neelix's goodbye party in the Mess Hall?" asked Naomi. "Of course. We  
wouldn't miss it for anything."  
  
Seven looked at Icheb. "Icheb..."  
  
"I will be there as well," he promised, his voice heavy with resignation.  
His eyes never left Seven's retreating figure as she exited the cargo bay.  
  
Naomi moved closer to Icheb, took his hand and gave it a comforting squeeze.  
"It will be all right, Icheb, it really will."  
  
Icheb turned to her then, a look of overwhelming loss and sorrow in his  
eyes. A moment later they were in each other's arms. Naomi held him tightly,  
receiving comfort as well as giving it. Despite her sadness over Seven, the  
thought uppermost in her mind was that she was glad Icheb was staying. She  
didn't think she'd be able to bear it if he were leaving, too.  
  
Neither of them noticed when the door to the cargo bay opened once more.  
Samantha Wildman, who'd come to say her own farewells, stood in the shadows,  
aghast at the sight before her.  
  
She took a step forward, then thought better of it. Emotions were running  
high at the moment; later would be a better time to have a talk with her  
daughter.  
  
***  
  
Torres cursed under her breath, but the hyperspanner was too far away for  
her to reach. Both Vorik and Nicoletti had offered to recalibrate the  
isolinear relays, but she had adamantly refused, and insisted on doing it  
herself. A stance she had regretted almost instantly, when she first got  
under the console. Her back, which always ached these days, especially when  
she was tired, felt as if it might break in two at the waistline. Torres  
swore again and tried once more to grasp the elusive tool.  
  
"Do you require this hyperspanner, Lieutenant?" The object in question  
suddenly moved much closer. Torres grabbed it gratefully. It wasn't until  
she had finished her adjustments and began the process of wriggling out from  
under the work area, that it registered who her benefactor had been.  
  
"Seven, what are you doing here?" grunted Torres.  
  
Seven did not reply immediately, but reached down and grasped B'Elanna's  
wrist. "Are you in need of any further assistance?"  
  
"No, I can manage--" Torres began answering, then found herself being yanked  
abruptly to her feet. "Thanks," she said, a little less graciously than she  
probably should have.  
  
Seven nodded briefly, but made no move to go.  
  
"Did you want something?" Torres asked as she cast a critical eye over the  
console, to satisfy herself that it was now working properly. She looked up  
when there was no reply.  
  
"There was some additional information I wished to impart to you about the  
transwarp drive, as I will no longer be on Voyager when you make use of the  
new technology," Seven said at last. "When you bring the drive online  
initially, you must be sure you have reached critical velocity before--"  
  
"Before we cross the threshold to transwarp velocities," finished Torres.  
"Yes, I know."  
  
"And be sure to compensate for the spatial distortions that accompany the  
opening of the conduit," Seven went on.  
  
"We will," Torres said patiently. "The transwarp attempt is still some time  
off, but thanks anyway." She turned and busied herself at another nearby  
console, and then noticed that Seven was still standing there. "Was there  
something else?" Torres asked.  
  
Seven looked ill at ease for a moment. "I wished to say that....that I am  
sorry I will not be here to see the birth of your child."  
  
Torres looked at her in surprise but could think of nothing to say in  
response. Seven continued, in a rush, "Lieutenant Paris was one of the first  
people to befriend me on Voyager, other than the Captain. Unlike many  
others, he never held my past against me."  
  
Torres smiled, despite herself. "Yes, Tom is like that. He certainly  
understands what it's like to have a second chance."  
  
Seven said, "And you, too, Lieutenant." At Torres' expression of  
disbelief--she had certainly never gone out of her way to make any overtures  
of friendship to the former Borg--Seven added, "The captain gave you a  
second chance as well."  
  
"I can never repay Janeway for what she's done for me," B'Elanna said  
slowly, thinking about the course of her life, past and present. With sudden  
clarity, she recalled the day she was named chief engineer of Voyager,  
despite her Maquis background. "I owe her so much." She glanced at the other  
woman. "I guess you and I have a lot more in common than I thought."  
  
"We do indeed."  
  
There was silence for a moment. Torres had no way of knowing what was going  
through the former drone's mind, but she herself was thinking of her  
relationship with Seven, or lack thereof, over the past four years. They'd  
been rivals, both in Engineering matters and, she acknowledged now, for the  
captain's respect and approval as well. They were also both fiercely  
independent people, each determined to do things her way, the *correct* way.  
All of which probably added up to why they never really got along.  
  
Suddenly, Torres found the words to say. She held her hand out. "I want to  
wish you the best of luck as you embark on your new life, Seven. I know I  
haven't always been very nice to you, or even polite, but I just want you to  
know, I'm glad you've got this chance. You deserve to be happy."  
  
Seven gripped her hand strongly in return, the external Borg implants oddly  
at variance with the slender fingers they enclosed. "Thank you--B'Elanna."  
  
***  
  
The EMH picked up the culture dish and ran the scanner over it with a  
practiced eye. Good; the bacteria were growing nicely and soon would be  
ready to--  
  
He stopped abruptly when a sound let him know he was no longer alone in  
Sickbay. He looked up and saw Seven standing there.  
  
"You were not at the farewell party in the Mess Hall this evening," she  
said, somewhat accusingly.  
  
"Well, yes, I've never been much of one for that sort of thing," the Doctor  
said somewhat lamely.  
  
"I'm sorry that you weren't there."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"I wished to speak with you."  
  
"About what?" he asked curiously. Seven was leaving in the morning with  
Axum, embarking on a new life far from Voyager, with others of her own  
background; he couldn't imagine what she needed to say to him now.  
  
She licked her lips nervously. "I would like to thank you for everything  
you've done for me, over the years. Your lessons on socialization and  
behavioral norms..." The ghost of a smile flickered across his features,  
then faded at her next words, "And of course your friendship. It truly meant  
a great deal to me."  
  
"It was one of the more rewarding experiences in my life," he said gruffly.  
Not for the first time he cursed himself for his weakness at wishing to  
exceed the limits of his original limited programming. He shook himself  
mentally--yes, that was it; his emotional algorithms undoubtedly were in  
need of a major diagnostic.  
  
Her eyes softened, as if she realized what he really meant, as if she'd  
heard in his voice the declaration of love he'd never admitted aloud. "I'm  
sorry," she said and he could hear the ring of honesty, and regret in her  
voice.  
  
He turned away slightly, so she wouldn't see his hands tremble. "I didn't  
really expect--you deserve much better than a hologram. You deserve to be  
with someone who is... real."  
  
"No," she said sternly. "You are mistaken. You should not disparage yourself  
like that." She came closer, her eyes intent on his. She spoke slowly, as if  
to give her words more emphasis. "I have never thought of you as anything  
less than a fellow sentient being. Whether someone is composed of flesh and  
blood, or photons, does not change the essence of what he is. You *are*  
real, as real as I, a human raised as a Borg, of both worlds but truly  
belonging to neither." Her head was bowed; he thought he saw the glimmer of  
tears in her eyes. "You gave me what I needed most, a friend, as well as the  
example of how to be a friend when I didn't know how." Her voice broke for a  
moment. "I'm only sorry I could never give you what you needed."  
  
For the first and last time he held her in his arms. Then she slipped away,  
leaving him alone.  
  
Epilogue  
  
They stood in the transporter room, as the moment of departure was at hand.  
The drones from the Tikvah had already beamed over to Axum's ship.  
  
In the center of the room, about to step onto the transporter pad, was a  
tall blonde woman. In contrast to the uniforms worn by most of the others  
present, she was dressed in a pink tunic and slacks. Her loose hair fell to  
her shoulders in gentle waves. Seven of Nine, tertiary adjunct of Unimatrix  
Zero One, had already left. Now, Annika Hansen was going home.  
  
The captain's eyes were suspiciously bright as she hugged her protégée, but  
she quickly stepped back and allowed others to take her place.  
  
Finally, all of the farewells had been said. Seven took her place on the  
transporter pad.  
  
"Live long and prosper," Tuvok intoned. He raised his hand in the ritual  
Vulcan salute.  
  
"Peace and long life," Seven said, giving the correct answer. Her eyes went  
from Tuvok to Janeway, then to the rest of those assembled: Kim, Paris,  
Torres, Neelix, Naomi and Sam Wildman, and Icheb. "It is thanks to everyone  
here that I do indeed have that opportunity."  
  
"Goodbye," Janeway said softly. Then, turning to Torres, who had moved  
behind the transporter controls, said, "Energize."  
  
As he watched the sparkles vanish, Neelix felt a hand slip into his own.  
Sarexa stood next to him.  
  
"Did I tell you how happy I am that you're staying?" he asked quietly, as  
the rest of the crew filed out of the room.  
  
"I wasn't going to lose you again," Sarexa said emphatically. She laid her  
head on his shoulder and returned his embrace. "Seven is home now, and so am  
I."  
  
***  
  
Captain's log, supplemental. Axum and his ships left the vicinity 12 hours  
ago. Lieutenant Torres assures me that the problem with the engines should  
be corrected within the next day and we will at last be able to achieve  
warp. In a way, this forced layover has---  
  
Janeway broke off dictating her log at Kim's hail. "Captain, receiving  
incoming message from the Taj."  
  
"Just a moment, Lieutenant," Janeway said. She quickly exited her Ready  
Room, preferring to take it on the bridge with her officers present. As she  
took her seat, she nodded at Kim. "Let's hear it."  
  
The heavyset Klingon appeared on the main viewscreen. "Voyager, this is  
Korok."  
  
"General, we didn't expect to hear from you again so soon," Janeway began.  
  
Korok shook his head. "Nor did I. Unfortunately, the tidings I bear are not  
good." He paused, looking at something out of their line of vision, and  
continued, "I have received a message from the long range scouts I sent out  
some time ago. They report an armada of vessels is coming our way."  
  
"Borg?" Chakotay asked quietly.  
  
"Yes. They reported the presence of over 40 ships, at a distance of 75 light  
years away. But that's not all. Scouts even further out indicate this is  
just the first installment--there have been sightings of additional cubes."  
  
Janeway's mouth tightened almost imperceptibly, but otherwise her expression  
didn't change. "Thank you for apprising us of the situation, Korok."  
  
Korok nodded, then said bluntly, "I was surprised to find you still at your  
last coordinates, Captain. If you truly don't wish to be involved in the  
coming battle, you should have left long ago. Now it may be too late. Korok  
out."  
  
"The trajectory of Korok's ships suggests that they are planning to  
rendezvous very near our position, Captain," Tuvok said. "It would appear  
that he is planning on making his stand here."  
  
"Set a course out of here, Captain?" Paris asked. "We've still got impulse  
power."  
  
Chakotay shook his head impatiently. "Even if we could go to warp this  
minute, we would still be overtaken within a short time. We can't outrun  
vessels traveling at transwarp. Those cubes will be here in less than 16  
hours."  
  
"And even if we managed to avoid this confrontation, there is another fleet  
besides," Janeway said slowly. She stood and walked over to the main  
viewscreen, then turned so she was facing her crew. "Our worst fears have  
been realized. This is no longer a petty squabbling with pirates, or other  
renegade drones. These are the combined forces of the Collective, out to  
crush any opposition, once and for all."  
  
As if to underscore her words, Tuvok said suddenly, "Captain, a conduit is  
opening almost immediately off our port bow. I'm picking up multiple  
signatures."  
  
Almost before it had fully emerged, the lead cube fired on their position.  
Voyager shuddered under the assault.  
  
Janeway grabbed the railing next to her in an attempt to remain upright.  
"Battle stations! Return fire!"  
  
  
  
  
Continue to the exciting conclusion at Ragnarok II. 


End file.
